Darkness of Betrayal
by angel-flame
Summary: Martin's former best friend goes missing ... how far will he go to help a man he betrayed? Read and review please!
1. CHAPTER 1

Author's Note: Martin is my favourite character in Without A Trace, so here we go; another Martin-centric fic :-) 

This has nothing to do with Alone, my other WAT fic. This one will be a multi-part, and follows the process of an investigation. 

CHAPTER 1 

Martin rested his head against the desk. He was exhausted. The previous night he had stayed late at the offices finishing paperwork for their previous case – a runaway teenager – before heading home at about 8 pm. His mother had promptly rung at 9:30 just as he was about to go to bed, and kept him on the phone for an hour asking about his health and his job. Then, after he managed to convince her that he was fine, and had no health worries, his sister had rung from Australia, where she was on holiday, and spent two hours telling him what a wonderful holiday she was having before Martin managed to get a word in edgeways to tell her that it was after midnight and he'd appreciate being able to go to bed. Four hours after that, there had been a car accident in the street outside his apartment, and he'd gone down to help out. By the time the ambulance had left and the police had finished asking questions, it had been 7:30am. Martin had decided that it really wasn't worth going back to sleep, and instead downed a few cups of coffee and gone to work. 

The upshot – it was 2pm and all Martin Fitzgerald wanted to do was go to sleep. He had somehow managed to struggle through the morning without yawning more than once every five minutes, but now he was a wreck, and had drunk more coffee than Danny believed could be healthy. 

"All right, people," Jack said, coming out of his office. "We've got a case." 

The team assembled around the central table, Martin forcing himself to wake up and listen. 

"The man is Ricky John Hunter, 26 year old ex-con. He did five years for computer crimes before – Martin? You okay?" he asked, breaking off as Martin had a coughing fit, choking on the coffee. 

"Yeah … did – did you say Ricky Hunter?" 

"Yes …" Jack narrowed his eyes, looking curiously at Martin. "Why? You know him?" 

"Used to, yeah." He coughed again, both to rid his lungs of the last of the coffee, and gain himself some time to get his thoughts straight. His exhaustion disappeared at this revelation. "What's happened to him?" He asked, in a non-too-subtle attempt to focus attention away from him. 

"He was let out for good behaviour two months ago. He was staying with his girlfriend Alison Ward in her apartment. She went out shopping this morning, and when she came back he was gone. There were signs of a struggle throughout the apartment." He turned to Martin, who had paled slightly. "Martin – anything you can add about Hunter?" 

"It's been five and a half years, Jack. I broke off ties when he got arrested … and he wasn't particulary keen to maintain them either." He cleared his throat. "He believes that I set him up." 

"Did you?" Danny asked. 

"No. Honest. I didn't even know what he was doing. First I knew of it was when I was told to check out his computer and I recognised some of the stuff on there. Of course, he didn't believe me, and we parted on bad terms." 

"What about before that?" Sam asked. "Where did you meet him?"

"In a computer class when I was 17. We started talking, and found we shared an interest in computers … we became friends. He went to university and then into the I.T. industry, and I went into the white-collar unit of the FBI. He told me that he was working with another friend's company and they were working on software upgrades and patches for Microsoft. I took it at face value … believe me, I had a hard time explaining that to the investigators later. They thought for a while that I was the 'man on the inside', and that I was a part of it." 

"A part of what?" Vivian asked. 

"Remember the 'Sun' virus six years ago?" he replied. Danny nodded. "That was Ricky," Martin said simply. 

"You're kidding!" Danny exclaimed. "You knew that guy?" 

"Thought I did," Martin said grimly. 

"How did you miss that?" Danny asked incredulously. 

"Believe me – I've been asking myself the same question for years." Martin sighed. "I guess you just don't associate your friends with a killer virus like that. I had no reason to be suspicious of him – he never said anything that made me doubt him." 

"How did they catch him?" 

Martin looked back at Jack. "His partner gave himself up and turned on Ricky in exchange for immunity. Ricky got 12 years … he must have got out for good behaviour, right?" 

Jack nodded. "Yeah." 

"So where's the partner?" Sam asked. 

"No idea." Martin shrugged. "Last I knew, he'd taken off with Ricky's old girlfriend Sally and headed out of the country. That was four years ago. His name is Styles, by the way. Craig Styles." 

"Did you visit Ricky in jail?" Vivian asked. 

Martin sighed inwardly. _This is beginning to feel like an interrogation_. "No. Like I said, I wasn't exactly his favourite guy." 

Jack noted this, noticing that Martin had talked only from Ricky's perspective … _maybe Martin didn't see the friendship as over_. "What about since he came out?" 

"No." Martin's flat voice indicated that this was not a topic for in-depth discussion. 

Jack ignored it. "Why not?" 

Martin shot him a briefly angry look, before saying simply, "Guess I didn't want to remember. Guess he didn't either." He looked at Jack again. "You going to take me off the case?" 

"Give me a reason and I will." Jack turned away. Martin understood what he meant – _first bit of improper behaviour and you're gone_. 

"Danny, Viv and Sam – I want you to check out his friends and relatives. Start with the girlfriend. Martin – you're with me. Let's go." Jack led the team out of the office. 

*******************

Author's note: Please read and review! 

NB – I don't know whether Martin has a sister or not, or whether he was once friends with someone who writes viruses. To the best of my knowledge there has never been a 'Sun' virus. I made it up for the story. And I don't know anything about the American legal system either. 


	2. CHAPTER 2

Author's Note: Well, here is Chapter 2! Thankyou all for your kind feedback on Chapter 1; it was very encouraging! 

CHAPTER 2 

Martin waited downstairs for Jack, who was on the phone to his daughter Hannah's school. Apparently, there had been an accident there, but no one had been hurt. As Jack came down the stairs, he saw Martin talking on his cell phone; as he noticed Jack he appeared to wrap the call up. 

"You drive," Jack told Martin as they walked to the car. 

"Where are we driving to?" 

"The prison where Ricky was held. I suppose you know which one it was, right?" 

"Yes," Martin stated, almost defensively. 

There was silence for a few seconds, before Jack turned to Martin and said, "So. You want to tell me more about Ricky, Martin?" 

Martin stared ahead at the road. "What do you want to know?" he asked, angrily. 

"Martin, first sign that you are impeding the investigation in any way, and you are suspended. I can't afford to have you bringing any personal issues into this. You're a good agent, but the team will make do without you if they have to – understand?" 

"Yes, Jack." 

"I need to know I can trust you, Martin. I need to know that you're telling me the truth. Starting from now. Understand?" 

"Yes, Jack." Martin kept his eyes on the road, but there was a sincerity to this tone that won Jack over. 

"OK …" 

They drove on in silence. 

*******************

Martin let Jack take the lead at the prison, as they talked to prison warders that had managed Ricky's wing of the prison. However, there was not much that the warders could tell them that was of interest. Ricky Hunter had kept his head down, been a quiet inmate, and caused no trouble. He had few visitors apart from his girlfriend, who he had met through another inmate he had become friends with. The inmate had died of a heroin overdose when Ricky had been in jail for three years; he had been upset, but, again, had not lashed out. His girlfriend Alison Ward was the sister of the inmate, Steven Ward. There was no record of any visits, letters, or phone calls to any family members, and no contact with Craig Styles. 

"So," Jack said, as they got in the car and left the prison, "you know anything about his family?" 

"Parents dead. One sister – married and living in France," Martin answered shortly. 

"When did his parents die?" 

"Before I met him. He never talked about it." Martin took refuge in a small lie. Ricky had talked about it – in his sleep. Martin had been woken up more than once by Ricky's nightmares caused by the trauma he had suffered as a 13 year old, witnessing the accident that claimed his mother's life and the disintigration of his father. Martin really didn't want to talk about this. He would chase down any lead, coax the truth out of any witness, but … now he understood why people could capitulate so quickly when Jack questioned them. 

"Right." 

_So Jack doesn't believe me … _Martin thought, then mentally shrugged. He didn't really care, by that point. He was dog-tired, and looked it. The shock had worn off now. 

Jack noticed Martin's drooping head. "Martin!" He watched Martin jerk back to consciousness. "Get out of the driver's seat," Jack ordered. "I'm driving from now on." 

"But –" 

"But nothing. You're practically asleep. Move." Jack's tone clearly indicated that this was not a point for discussion, and Martin conceded, secretly relieved. Within minutes, Jack was driving and Martin was dozing in the passenger seat. 

Jack dropped him at home, realising that the young agent was in no state to return to work. Martin put up a brief protest, but Jack easily led him up the stairs to his apartment. Martin opened the door and stumbled inside, turning on the lights. 

"Thanks Jack," he mumbled. "I'm fine now." 

Jack appraised him, before nodding. "OK." 

"Like a drink before you go?" 

Jack walked in to get himself a drink, while Martin went into the bedroom for a moment. Jack walked out of the kitchen after having a quick drink. "I'd better get back to the office," he called. "You take it easy." 

Martin laughed. "Yes sir." 

Jack turned to go. His eye fell to Martin's address book, lying open beside it. He stared at the name scrawled on top of the page : 

Ricky Hunter 

Jack froze, staring at the name. Martin – re-entering the room – noticed his boss's expression as it worked its way through surprise, shock, and anger. 

"What –" 

"Have you had any contact with Ricky Hunter since he was released from jail?" Jack asked angrily, fore-going subtlety in favour of results. 

"No. Why?" Martin retorted just as angrily. 

Jack slammed his hand down on the address book. "This is the address book Sam gave you for Christmas last year. How the hell did Ricky Hunter's cell phone number get in there?" 

Martin looked confused. "I don't know." Martin held out his hand for the book, and Jack – sensing the genuine confusion in Martin's voice – handed it over. "This isn't my handwriting," he said, frowning at the page. "It's Ricky's …" 

"What?" Jack stared at the page intently, then looked at Martin. "You sure?" 

"He was my best friend. I think I'd know," Martin retorted. "Look …" He flicked through the other pages of the address book. Jack was no handwriting expert, but he knew enough to recognise that the styles of writing were completely different. 

"It isn't a genuine number," he said, looking harder at the page. "It's too long." 

Martin nodded. "But he must have been here. Otherwise how would he have written his name here?" He watched Jack process this; work out the implications. 

"You'd better stay with Danny tonight," he said at last. "Who knows why he's trying to contact you? Grab what you need. I'll set up a police watch on this apartment." 

Martin nodded, and walked into his bedroom. He emerged a minute or two later. "Let's go." 

*******************

"So – we know he's trying to contact Martin," Jack concluded, having just briefed the rest of the team on the events of the afternoon. "Anything from the girlfriend?" 

Sam shook her head. "She went out shopping this morning – verified by the a Mrs Perez, who runs a fruit shop in the markets. She was out for two hours. Ricky was in bed when she left, as he had stayed up late the night before watching a soccer match." 

Martin grinned at that, then shook his head. 

"What?" Jack asked. 

"Nothing. It's just – he always did that. He loves that damn game," he laughed. 

Sam smiled a little. Jack nodded to her to continue. 

"When she returned, the door was open. She went in, and found the lounge room was messy, and the sofa had been tipped over. She called out, but there was no answer. The kitchen was also messed up, and Ricky was nowhere to be seen. Their neighbours one side are on holiday, but the other neighbours remember hearing a commotion at about 10:30 – half an hour after Alison went out. They assumed it was either kids, dogs, or someone watching a loud movie. No one saw anything." 

"Do they ever," Viv remarked. 

"So," Jack said, picking up where Sam left off, "this is what we have: Alison goes out shopping. At about 10:30 there is a commotion at their house. Alison returns home at about midday; the house is a mess and Ricky is gone. All signs point to kidnapping. Now, a few hours later, we have an address book in Martin's apartment with a number and his name written in it; apparently in his handwriting. That would imply he left of his own free will, or, in the intervening hours he has gotten free and is running." 

"But if he's running from people who attacked and kidnapped him," Danny mused, "why not go to the police? Why go to Martin, who he hasn't seen in five years?" 

Martin was looking a little unnerved at being discussed like this. "Maybe he was grabbed by someone I'd know," he said with a shrug. "Maybe he's still angry at me." 

There was a heavy silence, before Viv said, "Well, I guess this leaves us with you, Mr Fitzgerald, as our main lead." 

"What?" Martin looked up. 

"He's trying to contact you, Martin. He obviously –" She broke off as Martin's cell phone rang. For a second, the group tensed, half expecting it to be Ricky, but a quick shake of the head from Martin dispelled this thought. He moved a few metres from the desk for privacy, but they could just hear him: 

"Yeah … OK … look, I can't talk now, I'll call you later, OK? … Thanks; I appreciate it." He hung up, and turned back to the group. 

"My mother," he explained. "She's trying to organise a birthday party for my niece. I was supposed to do it, but she took over. Sorry about that. Where were we?" 

Jack nodded. "Viv?" 

"As I was saying, he wants to talk to you Martin. You are our best lead." 

"You want me to call him?" 

"How? That number didn't make any sense," Jack objected. 

"It's code," Martin grinned. "If I can remember the code, I can work out his cell phone number. We used it when we were 17 in our computers class." Jack handed him the address book, and Martin flicked to the correct page, then began working the numbers on a piece of paper. 

The rest of the team drew back slightly, except Danny, who sat by Martin watching intently. After ten minutes, Martin admitted temporary defeat. 

"I can't remember enough of it," he sighed. "I've got bits and pieces, but … I'll try again tomorrow." 

"Would you like someone else to try it?" Viv suggested. 

Martin looked extremely unenthusiastic. "It's a strange code … you take the numbers, they correspond to different words – random words; half made-up. The words form a sequence you use to work numbers from – and that's for each number. If I can't get it and I helped create it …" 

"You've forgotten it?" Jack asked, his voice tinged with disappointment. 

"It's been a fair few years since I last used it, Jack," Martin said lightly. "I don't have a perfect memory." 

Jack accepted this. He knew he would get no better from the young agent, not today. "OK … Danny, Martin's staying with you tonight." He sounded almost – worried. 

Danny nodded; he understood why Jack was worried. From what Martin had said, Martin and Ricky had parted on bad terms. Who knew what the ex-con had planned for his former best friend, who he thought had betrayed him? 

*******************

Author's Note: Chapter 3 coming soon! :-) Thanks for the reviews … 


	3. CHAPTER 3

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. The only things I own are the original characters – Ricky, Craig and Alison at the moment; more to come! 

Author's Note: A huge thankyou to all my reviewers!! I really appreciate your kind words, encouragement, and advice :-) 

This chapter contains spoilers for the Season 1 episodes 'Pilot', and 'Birthday Boy'. I know you've probably all seen these, but I gotta say it! 

CHAPTER 3

"Do you want a drink, or something?" Danny asked. 

Martin didn't respond; staring absently into space. 

Danny sighed. Martin had been out of it for the entire evening. "Martin?" 

"What?" He said, looking up. "Oh … sorry." 

Danny smiled. "You want a drink?" 

"Uh … no thanks." He rubbed at his head furiously as Danny sat on the couch opposite him. "Sorry … guess I'm not being great company, huh …" 

"Guess you got a few things on your mind," Danny replied. 

Martin grinned. "You could say that." 

"You want to talk about it?" 

"No … not worth it." His eyes fell. 

Danny frowned. "I think it is worth it," he said. "Off the record. Whatever you feel like talking about. I just think you need to talk." 

"Danny the psychiatrist, huh?" There was a slight mocking edge to Martin's voice. 

Danny raised his hands defensively. "Hey, just trying to help." 

Martin sighed. "I know. I'm sorry." He stopped, running his hands through his hair. Danny waited, knowing that Martin was about to start talking. 

"I just thought this was over … I thought it was gone – six years ago." He shook his head. "Of all the cases to land on my desk … I had to get the one of my ex-best friend who thinks I betrayed him, didn't I?" he finished sarcastically. 

Danny realised that he was going to have to force the matter. "Why don't you tell me what happened?" 

"What?" Martin looked up, distracted, and Danny saw the shutters come down. The moment was gone. "No … I'm fine, thanks Danny," Martin said, getting up. "I think I might go to bed now, if that's OK. I'm really tired." 

Danny nodded. "You can have the spare room, if you like." He followed Martin in. "You know," he said conversationally, "you're going to have to talk about it. To me, or to Jack. Your choice. Only I don't think he'll be very – understanding if keep up this 'I'm not going to talk about it' attitude." 

Martin straightened, and glared at Danny. "Don't you dare …" 

"Hey!" Danny said, "someone had to tell you. I'm just the messanger, buddy." 

"No you're not," Martin said coldly, "so don't you dare try to pull that one." 

"I'm just trying to help, for God's sake," Danny said, beginning to feel angry. 

"Then _get out_!" Martin yelled. Without warning, he lashed out, landing a solid blow on Danny, sending the agent flying backwards into the wall. Danny slumped to the ground, stunned by the force of the impact. 

Martin's head cleared, and he stared in horror. "_Shit!_ Danny – are you OK?" He rushed over to his friend, kneeling down beside him. "Danny? Can you hear me? I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." 

Danny's eyes opened. "You know, partner," he said weakly, "you pack a fair punch. You workout?" 

Martin grinned a little, partially from relief. "Are you hurt?" 

"I'm fine," Danny replied with a grimace. "Just bruised." 

Martin felt a stab of guilt. "I'm sorry, Danny." 

"You feel better now?" 

The question came out of left field for Martin, and he stared at Danny. "What?" 

"You needed to do that," Danny explained, groaning a little as Martin helped him to his feet. Martin quickly checked him over for broken bones. "I'm fine," he repeated. "Could do with a drink though." 

Martin helped him out to the kitchen, and got them both a drink. "What did you mean, I needed to do that?" he asked, almost angrily. 

Danny shook his head. "I've seen it before. You needed to release it – let it go. Wasn't doing any good sitting inside you, was it?" He shook his head. "Danny the psychiatrist indeed." 

Martin laughed, then sobered quickly. "I'm sorry." 

"Man, will you quit saying that?" Danny exclaimed. "I know you're sorry." He grinned as an idea occurred to him. "OK Martin. I accept your apology. You are forgiven. There. All over." 

"Thanks …" Martin shook his head again, as feelings of guilt and frustration again washed over him. 

"Uh-oh," Danny groaned. "What now?" 

"I'm –" 

"Sorry, I know," Danny said wryly. "What else?" 

Martin grinned ruefully. "Nothing …" 

"Oh no you don't," Danny exclaimed. "If I'm going to get thrown against the wall, I think I deserve to know what's made you so angry. Spill." 

Martin shook his head. "How can I resist?" He paused, and seemed unsure of how to start. 

"Start with when you met Ricky," Danny suggested. 

Martin nodded. "OK … I met him at a computers class when we were both seventeen. We became friends quickly. You know how sometimes you meet someone, and you just know that you're going to be friends easily? We were like that. Within weeks we were best mates. Hung out together all the time … he was really into computers. Used to spend hours on the damn things." He laughed. "Except when he was watching soccer, of course." He drained the rest of his glass, and refilled it. Danny frowned slightly. 

"Don't have too much in one go, there, man," he said easily. "Don't want to turn up with a hangover tomorrow." 

Martin rolled his eyes, and drained the glass. "Who are you, my mother?" 

Danny took the glass from his hands, and put it on the sink out of Martin's reach. "So what happened next?" 

Martin frowned a little, but continued the story. "We went to college … we stayed in touch, of course. I went to work in the FBI, while he was still playing around on computers. He told me he and a friend – Craig Styles – had established a small software company, and they were working on patches for Microsoft. Well … about a year later, I got the shock of my life. I was known as a computer expert, and seeing as all the techs were busy, I was asked to take a quick look at a computer. I started it up and began looking around when I recognised some of the files. There were a collection of photos of Ricky's favourite soccer team, some of us with a few mates on holiday in California." He sighed, and ran his hands through his hair. "Apparently whoever asked me to check the computer didn't know that I was a friend of Ricky's. I asked them the name of the owner of the computer, and he told me – 'Ricky Hunter'. 

"Once they realised that I knew him, they instantly banned me from touching the computer. They started doubting me … It's true, the Sun virus was pretty sophisticated, and I was known to be good at all things computers … I tell you, I had a hard time convincing the agents that I wasn't a part of the conspiracy. I had heard of the Sun virus, of course. In fact, my sister's computer was infected by it. I spent twelve hours being interrogated by various agents … after that they were finally convinced that I had had nothing to do with the virus … 

"They let me visit Ricky – I was told I could visit him more than once, but … after the debacle that was our first meeting, I wasn't going back. He called me a traitor, and accused me of setting him up and delibrately maintaining our friendship so as to get him arrested. I said some things back that … well, I'm not proud of them. I think we pretty well said everything that day." 

"How did he get caught?" 

"Craig's girlfriend was a part-time thief. She was caught, and they raided his home. Craig was out at the time, but his neighbour said he was probably at Ricky's. On his computer they found a few traces of the virus, and putting that together with some things the girlfriend had said, they began to wonder if Craig wasn't connected with the virus. They went to Ricky's house; he was out but Craig was there. They accused him of writing the virus and – to their surprise – he said he'd had a part in it, but blamed most of it on Ricky. He was offered a lenient punishment if he spilt the beans on Ricky. He didn't think twice to blame everything on Ricky. Everything had been done from Ricky's home, not Craig's, so it was all there on Ricky's computer. By the time Craig had finished, the trial was a virtual formality. Craig got off with six month's of weekend detention and a five year good behaviour bond. After the six months, he upped and left with Ricky's girlfriend." He made another reach for the glass, but Danny pushed it away. 

"What then?" 

"What then? Nothing then," Martin shrugged. "Haven't seen Ricky since he went into jail." 

"So … did Ricky write the code? Or was it Craig?" 

"Mostly Craig, I think. But they did it at Ricky's house, and both Craig, and Ricky's girlfriend testified against him, so … he didn't have a chance, really. The judge didn't impose the maximum sentence because Ricky was a young man, with no previous offences, and from a 'troubled background'. He figured that it wasn't exactly Ricky's fault he'd got into this kind of world." He cleared his throat. "My testimony helped too." 

"Your testimony?" Danny exclaimed. 

"Yeah. The defence lawyer asked me to testify about Ricky's character." 

"What did you say?" Danny asked, realising he would have to force this bit out of Martin. 

"What I knew. I said that Ricky was a good guy, a great friend, who had probably just fallen into the wrong company or got the wrong ideas at some point. I said he wasn't a danger." He shrugged. "I said what I knew." 

"I thought you two had parted on bad terms." 

"Doesn't mean I wanted him behind bars for most of his life," Martin retorted. Danny sensed Martin's anger level rising again. "I'm loyal," Martin said, with a brittle laugh. "No matter what, I didn't want him behind bars for twenty five years, did I?" 

"OK, Martin, OK," Danny said, backing away slightly. 

Martin noticed, and half-smiled. "What's the matter? Afraid I'll hit you again?" 

"There's only so many hits Danny the psychiatrist is prepared to take," Danny said, grinning, and to his relief, Martin smiled too, and relaxed. "You OK now?" Danny asked. 

Martin smiled. "Yeah … thanks, Danny. Guess you were right; I did need to talk." 

Danny nodded. "Any time." He turned to go. "I'll let you sleep." 

"Oh, Danny," Martin said. Danny paused in the doorway. "Sorry about the hit." 

Danny laughed. "Don't worry about it. You owe me one." 

"Yeah …" He turned away. 

Danny closed the door, and walked out to the lounge room. He threw himself down on the sofa, wincing as his back protested. _Remind me never to do that again_, he thought ruefully. 

He was startled by the noise of a phone ringing. "Martin! Your phone," he called, walking towards the bedroom with the phone. Martin appeared, wearing light blue pyjama pants, and took the phone. 

"Thanks," he mumbled, and flipped the phone open. "Excuse me." He walked back into his room, and Danny faintly heard him say, "Yeah …" 

He couldn't hear any more of the conversation, and let it be. About five minutes later, his own phone rang. He answered, and wasn't surprised to hear Jack. 

"How's Martin been?" 

Danny decided not to mention the punch. "Fine," he replied. "He talked about it a bit, and I think he's feeling better now." 

"Keep an eye on him," Jack ordered. 

Danny sighed. "What are you afraid of, Jack? Think he's going to run? Go after the kidnappers on his own?" 

"Remember his early exploits? Walking into the Bartholomew Higgins' home, alone, unarmed, and with no backup, looking for Maggie Cartwright? Knocking Darren Oaks into the lake a few days later?" 

Danny grimaced. "I see what you mean. He can be a loose cannon, can't he?" 

"This isn't a joke, Danny. The last thing we need is Martin going vigilante on us, and possibly disappearing himself. The only reason he's still on the case is that it's a way for us to keep an eye on him. There is something very strange going on here, and I can't shake the feeling that Martin's going to end up in the middle of it. When he does, I want us to be there for back-up." 

"OK, Jack," Danny sighed. "I'll keep an eye on him." He put the phone down, and walked towards Martin's room. He knocked gently, but there was no reply. Slowly he opened the door. 

Martin lay in the bed, asleep. Danny backed out quietly, but left the door open. He checked his watch – 10:30. Stifling a yawn, he headed off to bed. It had been a long night. 

*********************************

"Morning, Martin," Danny said, shaking Martin into wakefulness. "Rise and shine!" He opened the curtins. 

"You know," Martin growled, as his eyes struggled to adjust themselves to the sudden glare, "you really didn't have to open those damn curtins." 

Danny laughed. "Not much of a morning person, are you? Come on, get up. You can have a shower if you like, and there's coffee if you need the caffeine." 

"Caffeine sounds great," Martin muttered, dragging himself out of bed. 

"I think you need it. How's your head?" 

"Sore," Martin groaned. 

Danny laughed. "Well you did down a few last night." He helped Martin to his feet. "Come on; time to get moving." 

He showed Martin to the bathroom, then went back to the kitchen. By the time Martin emerged about ten minutes later, Danny had a cup of coffee waiting on the sink. "How do you feel now?" he asked, after Martin drank about half the cup. 

Martin paused to think. "Worse," he concluded. Danny placed a glass down in front of him. Martin gazed at it suspiciously. "What's this?" 

"Taylor's Cure for Hangovers," Danny annouced with a smile. 

"What's in it?" 

Danny paused to think. "You don't want to know. Just drink it," he ordered. Martin shot him a suspicious look, but drank it anyway. "Better sit down," Danny advised. "That stuff's strong." 

Martin nodded, and sat down heavily on a bar stool. He finished the drink. Danny looked expectantly at him. "You know," Martin began slowly, "I think I feel a little better." 

Danny laughed, and clapped him on the shoulder. "Come on, we're leaving in five." 

*********************************

They arrived at work five minutes early, to be greeted by Viv, who was working through Ricky's phone records. Sam – sitting at her desk – called, "Danny – could you give me a hand with these? I'm going through the bank statements, but I need you to go through the visitor's log from the jail." 

"Sure," Danny said, taking the files from her and sitting at his desk. "Martin …" 

"I'll try that phone number again," he concluded. "Where's Jack?" 

"Going through surveillence photos," Viv answered. "He's been in there for an hour. He's about to explode." 

"What surveillence photos?" Martin asked. 

"From outside your apartment," Viv told him. 

Martin looked down. "Oh." 

"He's already had me in there, seeing if I recognise anyone. I don't doubt he'll get the three of you in there too at some point." She grimaced. "Have fun." 

Danny grinned. "Thanks." 

Martin looked up as a tired Jack entered. "Martin – can you wait in my office? I'll be there in a minute." 

Martin nodded, and made his way out of the room. Jack turned to Danny. "What did Martin say last night?" 

"He gave me a basic timeline from when he first met Ricky, to Ricky's imprisonment. The basic idea was that he had no idea what Ricky was up to, and they had a huge argument about it when Ricky was waiting to go on trial. Martin still testified in his favour though – gave him a character reference." 

Jack nodded. "Thanks." He walked back to his office. "Martin?" 

The young agent looked up as Jack entered. 

"Could you look through these photos for me?" 

"Sure. What am I looking for?" 

"These are the surveillence photos taken by the police officers who watched your house last night. I want you to pick out as many of the residents as you can." 

Martin shrugged. "OK. But – I don't know all the residents, you know." 

Jack nodded. "That's fine. Just pick out as many as you can." 

Martin bent his head over the photos, and began setting aside those he recognised as being of his co-residents. Jack watched, gauging his reactions to each photo. After about five minutes, Martin finished. He had set aside about fifteen photos out of the thirty. 

"There's another five or six I'm not positive about," he explained, handing a bundle of photos to Jack. "These are the ones I'm certain about." 

"Great, thanks. Can you separate the ones you aren't certain about too?" 

Martin quickly went through the remaining fifteen photos, pausing over some of them, before coming up with six photos that he handed to Jack. 

"Right," Jack said, "we'll run this other lot first." He gestured to the third pile. "Can you …" 

"Sure." Martin left quickly with the collection of photos. 

*********************************

"What have you got?" Jack asked, as he reviewed the – rather incomplete – timeline. 

"Nothing unusual in the bank records," Sam answered. "No large deposits or withdrawals. No periodic withdrawals. They agree with what Alison told us." 

"Most of his visits were from his girlfriend, Alison Ward," Danny said, as Jack looked at him. "A few visits from his lawyers, and one visit from a Steven Barker, a month before Ricky was released." 

"Suspicious?" Martin asked. 

"A little. Steven Barker runs a computer store on 5th Avenue." 

"But … Ricky isn't allowed to touch a computer – not for another eight years," Martin protested. 

"Well, it's a lead. Sam, Danny, I'll get you to chase it down. Martin – anything from the photos?" 

"Nothing – wait." He turned back to the screen. "Something's come up. Alan Mortis. Did ten years for armed robbery, at …" He smiled. "Well would you look at that," he exclaimed. "He was at Ricky's prison. Got out two weeks ago." He turned to Jack. "Back to the prison, I take it?" 

"What's his address?" 

"Living with a friend, in Brooklyn." 

"OK. Viv?" 

"Only one strange thing – a call he got after a week after he got out. From Martin Fitzgerald." 

Four sets of eyes turned to Martin accusingly. He got to his feet. "I didn't talk to him," he said defensively. "I talked to Alison. The call only lasted about thirty seconds. I asked to talk to Ricky, she asked for my name. I told her, and she disappeared for a few seconds. Then she said Ricky didn't want to talk to me. I gave her my cell phone number in case he changed his mind. End of story." He looked angrily at Jack. 

"Why did you want to talk to him?" Danny asked. 

"To make sure he was OK … Hell, we were best mates. You don't just walk away from a friendship like that, OK?" He glared at them again. "What are you accusing me of?" 

Jack glared back. "Martin, I am sick of having to drag information out of you. This is an investigation, with the possibility of a man's life at stake here. If I have to force information from you one more time, you will be suspended, and will be able to count yourself very lucky if I don't charge you with impeding a federal investigation. Understand?" 

Martin's mouth was set in an angry line. Danny watched him, thinking, _Please don't do anything stupid, Martin. Please … _

His silent prayer was answered as Martin said, "Yes Jack." 

Jack nodded grimly. "Right. Change of plans. Danny and Martin, check Martin's apartment for any signs of intruders. Then, go and question this Steven Barker. Sam, you're with me. We're going back to the prison, then out to Brooklyn to visit Alan Mortis. Viv – I want you at Alison Ward's. Ask her about Alan Mortis and Steven Barker. Find out as much as you can about Ricky's friends, and his prison life. Clock's ticking; let's move." 

*********************************

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please leave a review on your way to the door … 


	4. CHAPTER 4

Author's Note: Well, things are getting a little more complicated, huh? I promise a little more will be revealed in this chapter … but not much!!

I'm sorry about the lateness of the update … unfortunately real life has been intruding a lot lately … and I haven't had as much time for writing.

Rainbowsnstars : Oh yeah. Martin isn't going to know what hit him!! Personally, I love the cases where they (Martin, Jack, Sam, Danny, Viv) actually get personally involved, better than the ones where they don't … Thanks for reviewing!

Meisha : Thankyou very much :-)

CHAPTER 4

"Danny," Jack called, as Danny made to follow Martin out of the room. "Come here."

Danny walked back to Jack, eyeing him curiously. "Yeah?"

"Keep an eye on him," Jack said softly. Danny nodded, and turned to go. Jack caught his arm. "Don't … don't let him get too angry."

Danny nodded again, and followed Martin out.

They reached Martin's apartment quickly, and Danny casually loosened his gun in its holster as they walked quietly up the stairs. As Martin moved towards the door, Danny took his arm and gestured towards the weapon, then pushed Martin back, indicated that he would go through second. Danny didn't really expect anyone to be inside … but you could never be too sure.

They searched the apartment quickly, but no one else was inside. "All right," Danny said when they finished. "Anything missing or moved? Any notes?"

Martin looked around. "I don't think so." He walked into the bedroom, and Danny heard him opening cupboards. A minute later, Martin emerged. "Nothing."

"Check the other rooms," Danny suggested. Martin nodded, and Danny watched as he checked through the other rooms in the apartment.

Martin shrugged. "Nothing. Maybe he wasn't here for me …"

"I find that extremely hard to believe," Danny said, as they walked out the door. "Mortis knows Ricky. Ricky disappears. Ricky apparently goes to your apartment. Later, Mortis goes there – on the same day. That is far to much of a coincidence."

Martin shrugged. "Let's face it, there's something very strange going on here."

"You got any theories?" Danny asked, as they got into the car.

"I'm just as stumped as you are," Martin replied. "Next stop: Steven Barker."

Viv was more than a little frustrated by the time she arrived at Alison's house. The traffic had been heavily congested, and she had nearly been run off the road twice.

"Ms Ward," she said, as Alison opened the door.

"Agent Johnson," Alison replied, obviously concerned. "Have you …"

"Can I come in?"

Alison moved away from the door. "Have you found him?"

"Not yet, Ms Ward. We're still looking though. I need to ask you some questions about Ricky's friends."

Alison frowned, and nodded. "OK."

"Do you know an Alan Mortis? He was in Ricky's prison …"

"Not personally, but Ricky's talked about him."

"Can you remember what he said?" Viv pressed.

"Uh … he didn't like him much. He never said so directly, but I always got the impression that Ricky thought he was a nasty person – he liked to intimidate people and get them in debt."

"Is it possible that Ricky was in debt to him?"

"What are you suggesting?" Alison asked, looking even more concerned. "You think this – Mortis has Ricky?"

"We don't know," Viv replied, trying to calm Alison down. "It's a possibility, but not by any means the only one. Did Ricky say anything else about Mortis?"

Alison shook her head. "No … he didn't talk about other prisoners much. He stayed on his own, mostly."

"OK … and what about Steven Barker? Did Ricky ever mention him?"

"Steven Barker? No. Who is he?"

"He visited Ricky in prison."

Alison shrugged. "I'm sorry … I've never heard of him. Do you think he is involved too?"

"We don't know, Ms Ward. That's what we're trying to find out."

"… Yeah … OK … Thanks, Viv … I'd like you to stay with her – there may be a ransom demand soon … Bye." Jack hung up, and looked over at Sam. They were about five minutes from the prison.

"So?"

"Alison's never met Mortis or Barker. She'd never heard of Barker, but she had heard of Mortis. She said that from the way Ricky talked about him, he hadn't really liked Mortis much – sounds like Mortis was a bit of a bully. She mentioned something about him allowing people to get in debt to him, and then exploiting them."

"Maybe Ricky was in debt to him … he refuses to pay … he's released, and thinks he's gotten away, when Mortis is released and comes after him. He kidnaps him to get the money back." Sam shrugged. "That could work …"

Jack nodded. "Yeah …" He slammed his hand angrily against the door. "There is something about this case that doesn't work … there's something we're missing." He shook his head, angry at himself. "Something important."

"You think Martin's hiding something," Sam said. It wasn't a question – she knew Jack, and she knew what he was thinking.

Jack looked over at her. "You know me too well," he acknowledged with a smile. "Yeah, I am worried that he's hiding something … or not necessarily even that. Maybe there's something, some little incident, that he's dismissed as unimportant … but I'm certain he is embroiled in this somehow."

"Here we are," Sam announced a few seconds later. "Let's go."

Author's Note: This is actually only about half the length the chapter was meant to be, but I decided to post this and post the second half of the chapter in a few days … sorry about that.

Please, if you read, take the time to review! Thanks :-)


	5. CHAPTER 5

Author's Note: This is the second part of chapter 4. I'm sorry to anyone who was displeased by this, but I have lots of things going on in my real life at the moment that are distracting me a lot – my final year at school, illness in the family, and a few other more minor issues. I posted as much as I could last time, and then decided that instead of making you guys wait for longer, I would post that part, and try and come at the second bit with an open mind, as I wasn't getting anywhere with it. I'm sorry if this upset anyone, but there wasn't anything else I could really do.

Sorry … I'm not meaning to sound cross at you guys; especially those of you who review – I love you all! But I have a lot on my plate at the moment; I'm updating as fast as I can and sometimes I have to take shortcuts. I'm not a super computer, just a writer living in the real world!

I had to say all that I'm afraid. Apologies to all of you to whom it wasn't directed :-)

I don't have time to do shout-outs today, I'm afraid … I will do them next chapter I promise!

CHAPTER 5

"Here we are – Electrical Goods. Owned by Steven Barker," Danny said, getting out of the car. He paused on the doorway, before saying quietly to Martin, "Let me take the lead in there, OK?"

Martin nodded. "Sure."

Danny entered the shop before Martin, and automatically surveyed his surroundings. The room was littered with computers and computer parts. A tall, brown-haired man stood behind the counter, his head bent over a sales ledger. He looked up briefly as the agents entered. "Can I help you with something?" he asked politely.

"I'm Martin Fitzgerald; this is Danny Taylor. We're with the FBI." Both men showed their badges. "You are Steven Barker?"

Barker frowned slightly. "Yes; is something wrong?"

"We'd like to ask you a few questions about Ricky Hunter."

"I don't think I know the name …"

"Well," Danny said, "isn't that strange? Because we have a prison log that says you visited him a few months ago while he was serving a term for computer crimes." He cocked his head to one side and watched Barker squirm. "Now that's very strange, wouldn't you agree, Agent Fitzgerald?"

"Very strange," Martin echoed quietly, nodding grimly.

"So, Mr Barker, care to try that again?"

Barker shot nervous glances at them, gripping the edge of the counter so hard his knuckles were white. "I … you're right. I did know Ricky Hunter, and I did visit him in prison."

"Why?" Danny demanded.

"Just a social visit," Barker replied nervously. "That's it."

Danny sighed, shaking his head and looking down for a second, then looked back at Barker with a slight grin on his face.

"Wrong answer," Martin said. "Let's talk about this down at the FBI building."

"Do not pass 'Go', do not collect two hundred dollars," Danny said, taking Barker's arm. "You might want to lock up – we could be a while."

Sam got into the car with a frustrated sigh. Jack said simply, "I agree."

"Why is it that no one can ever remember anything of importance?" Sam asked, exasperated. All the warders had been able to tell them was that Ricky and Mortis had hung around together a lot, especially in the weeks preceding Ricky's release.

"Well, here's a possible scenario," Jack began, knowing that talking would help him clear his mind and organise his thoughts. "Ricky somehow manages to get into Mortis's debt while in jail. Mortis – knowing that Ricky is a hacker – sticks close to him throughout the duration of his sentence, then has some of his buddies keep an eye on Ricky till he gets out. Upon his release, he goes to see Ricky to get his money back. Ricky can't pay, so he abducts him for ransom."

Sam nodded. "Yes … but why wait until he was released? Couldn't some of his friends have got the money just as easily?"

"But Ricky may not have paid them … or maybe Mortis had a grudge against Ricky and wanted to take the money personally. Maybe Ricky couldn't pay until now."

Sam nodded slowly. There were gaps in the theory, but it was still sound enough. "So what happened? There's no evidence that Ricky was killed in the struggle at his house … so was he kidnapped, or did he flee? Or did he escape later and try to find Martin?"

"That's the next thing we have to find out. Maybe the boys will have had some luck …"

"You know, Steven, this attitude is really not helping you," Danny said, pacing the room. He turned abruptly to face Barker, leaning over the table towards him. The other man started backwards, then recovered himself and met Danny's gaze.

"I have nothing to tell you. Ricky worked for me a few years before he went to jail. I was paying him a visit for old time's sake."

"That so?"

"Yeah." He glared back at Danny, who shrugged, and pulled back.

"Well, Mr Barker," Martin said, after a pause. "Thank you for your time. We will be back in a few moments to let you out." He pulled Danny out of the room.

"I need a few minutes alone with him," Martin hissed.

Danny immediately shook his head. "Sorry, Martin. I can't do that."

Martin rolled his eyes, exasperated. "I won't hurt him." Danny showed no signs of backing down, and Martin conceded. "Fine, you can stay in the room – but don't say a word, no matter what. Just back me up."

Danny nodded slowly. "What are you planning?"

Martin smiled grimly. "Wait and see." He re-entered the room, and sat down opposite Barker, while Danny followed, leaning against the wall near the door and wondering how the hell he had gotten into this … and what 'this' was anyway.

"Mr Barker, we apologise for the delay," Martin said smoothly, conjecturing that Barker would not have much idea about how the FBI worked, "but we just have to ensure that there's nothing our boss wants to ask you. It's a standard procedure; it doesn't mean anything, but we have to follow it. It shouldn't take more than a minute or two."

Steven Barker nodded. "OK … thanks. I … no hard feelings …"

Martin nodded. "Of course not. We just have to do our job."

Barker nodded. "Yeah … so what's happened to Ricky?"

" 'Happened to him'," Martin began. "Why …" He grinned. "Sorry about that. A reflex response."

Barker smiled back. "No worries. You must do this a lot."

Martin nodded. "You have no idea."

"So … Ricky?"

"He's disappeared."

Barker frowned. "Disappeared? When?"

"Yesterday."

Danny moved forward and tapped Martin's shoulder. "I'll check if that clearance has arrived."

"Yeah, thanks," Martin replied, turning to face Danny. "It should be here by now." The veiled meaning was clear. Danny walked outside, counted slowly to thirty, then re-entered the room.

"He's clear," he said. Martin got to his feet, and Barker followed suit.

"We can drop you back at your shop," he offered. "We're following a potential lead down that way anyway," Martin explained. Both he and Danny noticed Barker pale slightly.

"That's good, isn't it?"

"Very," Danny replied, picking up on Martin's train of thought. "We hope to find Ricky this afternoon."

"That _is _good," Barker replied, paling further.

"We should catch the others this afternoon too," Martin added as they walked through the corridors towards the lift.

" 'Catch'?" Barker queried. "Was Ricky …"

"He was kidnapped," Danny finished helpfully. "Let's go," he finished as they walked to the car. He couldn't help but notice Barker's agitation.

_Nice one, Martin_, he thought ruefully. _You sure picked this one … and everyone else missed it. _

"Are you expecting something to happen?" Alison asked, her eyes straying towards the phone.

"I'm afraid we don't know what will happen," Vivian replied, "however Miss Ward, we are doing the best we can."

"I know …" She smiled. "Thank you."

The phone rang, and Alison's hand shot towards it. However, Viv stalled her movements, then coordinated their hands so that they picked up the phone at the same time.

"Hello?" Alison said nervously.

"We have your boyfriend," said an obviously scrambled voice. "We want $500 000. We will call you at 6pm with the details." They hung up, even as Alison called:

"Wait! Wait … Ricky?" Tears formed quickly in her eyes. Viv took the receiver out of her hands and replaced it.

"I will pay," Alison said. "But …"

"It's OK, Miss Ward. We have agreements with two New York banks – they will cover the ransom for you."

Alison nodded. "OK." Vivian watched her, seeing the effort it took for this young woman to hold herself together. "I just … I just want him to be OK," she whispered, tears spilling down her face. "He's already been through so much … the jail term … his parents … his family … his best friend … he doesn't need this."

Vivian held her silently until the young woman said carefully, "I'm OK."

Viv released her. "OK … now, Miss Ward, I'm going to make a few phone calls and arrange some things, then I will be back. I will be just outside."

Alison nodded, and Vivian stepped outside. She called Jack first.

"Malone here."

"It's me. There's been a ransom demand." She could almost see him straighten and hear his breath quicken. "They want $500 000," she added, knowing exactly what she would ask. "They're going to call her again at 6pm to give her instructions. She's going to pay, of course."

He sighed. "Yes – probably for the best, unless we have a major breakthrough in the next few hours."

"Have you heard from the boys?"

"They're trailing Steven Barker. Martin is convinced that he knows something."

"Ah-ha. And you think …"

There was a very pregnant pause. "They're both good agents. If there's something there, they'll find it out."

"Yes." Both of them knew that he hadn't really answered the question, and both were a little frightened about what Martin was doing. "Where are you?" An obvious, but much needed, change in topic.

"Driving back from the jail. Nothing much new – only that Mortis and Ricky were seldom seen apart, especially in the weeks preceding Ricky's release. Bring Alison to the office and set up there; get the techs to set up the phone lines."

"I'm on it." She hung up, before re-entering the room. "Miss Ward?"

Alison looked up. "Yes?" She had cleaned herself up, but earmarks were still obvious on her cheeks.

"We'd like you to come into the office now, please."

"Sure," she said, picking up her handbag from the floor by the lounge. "I'm ready."

"So, what now, Sherlock?" Danny asked.

"We wait – and we watch," Martin replied, choosing to ignore Danny's sarcasm. "He's gotta make a move."

"So …"

"So what?"

"So, what put you onto him first?"

"Ricky mentioned him to me. He worked for him in the months before he was arrested."

Danny whistled. "You're thinking Barker had something to do with the virus?"

Martin shrugged. "I'm not sure … he's certainly knowledgeable enough, and it wouldn't be too much to assume that he knew what the boys were doing; hell, maybe even helped them. But either way, I'm certain he has something to do with this." He grinned suddenly. "There he goes!"

Danny slipped the car into drive and slowly followed Barker around a corner. They watched as their quarry entered a building in the side street. Martin pulled out his cell phone and rang Sam.

"Sam, it's Martin. Where are you?"

"The office," she replied, "why?"

"Can you run an address for me?"

"Sure. Give us a second … OK, fire away."

Martin read the address out, and a few seconds later was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath from Sam. "Well, well, well. That building is owned by Shaun Mortis – Alan's brother."

"Thanks Sam," Martin replied, ending the call. "It belongs to Shaun Mortis," he told Danny.

Danny looked up quickly. "Mortis? As in …"

"As in, Alan's brother." He got out of the car. "Let's pay him a visit, shall we?"

Danny grinned. "I'm feeling pretty sociable." He followed Martin to the door.

Martin knocked. After a few seconds, Steven Barker opened the door. His eyes opened in shock as Martin pushed him back. "FBI, Mr Barker, keep your hands where we can see them."

"But … how …" Barker made to follow Martin, but Danny slowed him down with a restraining hand on his shoulder.

"Take it easy, pal," he said, guiding Barker up the stairs. "Why are you in such a hurry?"

Martin reached the top of the stairs to find the upper level – which consisted of only one room – deserted. He turned back to Barker and Danny as they reached the top of the stairs, before turning away to search the room as Danny shoved Barker onto a chair. Martin bent down and then straightened, holding a bloody cloth gingerly in one hand, before dropping it into a plastic bag.

"You'd better start talking," he said grimly.

"I swear I didn't know what they were going to do," Barker said, panicking.

"Well, just tell us what you do know," Danny retorted.

"I wasn't in on the start of it. I swear I don't know how he came here …" He was obviously still scared out of his wits, and Martin decided that he wasn't a career criminal. One small push, and the whole truth would be their's.

"You are looking at a jail term," he told Barker. "How long would you estimate, Agent Taylor?"

Barker's eyes flew to Danny, and his breathing quickened from fear.

"Well, we're looking at causing grievous bodily harm – if not murder – as well as kidnapping, extortion, plus a rash of computer crimes …" He shook his head with a sigh. "You got kids?" he asked. Barker nodded nervously. Danny grinned. "Ever want to see your grandchildren?"

Barker paled even further. "But … what about plea bargaining? I've heard of that."

"You haven't given us anything to bargain with," Danny told him. "So …"

"I swear I was just here cleaning up. I …"

"Alan Mortis. Shaun Mortis. Ricky Hunter," Martin said. "Those names ringing bells?"

"Yeah …" He swallowed nervously. "This place is Shaun's. He's an accountant. It's a part of some complicated scheme that gets him a tax break … I don't really understand the details. He and Alan worked for me … as did Ricky. They overlapped with him for a few months, actually. A few times I would catch Shaun or Alan out the back on one of the computers; they would always close the window when I came in. I figured maybe they were playing games or something; I wasn't too worried. Then … Alan was arrested for hacking. I was suspicious, but it turned out that nothing had been done from those computers. Shaun apparently had not had any part in it. A year or two ago, I met him again, and he now manages my accounts. And yes, my visit to Ricky in jail was purely social … he wasn't a bad kid, you know. Just fell in with the wrong crowd, I guess.

"Well … yesterday, Alan came to see me. He said he'd been out for a week, and apologised for any troubles he had caused. I told him straight out that he had caused troubles, but they were all well over, and it was all water under the bridge. He said he was glad, as he had a situation he needed my help with. He asked me to come round to this building immediately. That would have been about 1pm. I came at once; I called it a lunch break. I found there were four men in the room, plus Alan and me … and … there was a body." He paused, staring at the floor, and Martin felt sick. _Oh no … it can't be … _

"I …" Barker continued. "I thought he was dead, at first, but they said he'd fallen and hit his head. They knew I was good at first aid, so they asked me to help him. I … was doubtful about the fall."

"Why?" Danny asked.

"It didn't look like that sort of wound," Barker admitted. "He was very pale and there was blood all over his face. It wasn't until I washed off the blood that I recognised him." He stopped again, and seemed unable to continue.

"Who was it?" Martin asked, struggling to maintain his equilibrium.

Barker looked up, looking pained. "Ricky," he answered. "It was Ricky."

Author's Note: That's Chapter 5! Next part coming soon … hums WaT theme ;-)

Review please :-)


	6. CHAPTER 6

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews of Chapter 5! I really appreciate it … well; the fic's getting a bit darker now … ;-) Hope you all enjoy it. Apologies for the lateness of posting … real life; what can ya do?

Thanks to k, Rosie, RiseAgainPhoenix, Megan, alma rates, Ice Bear, and M for reviewing! (And the comment about 'Ricky' and 'Martin' made me fall off my chair laughing! Thanks Megan … :-)!)

Chapter 6

"Hey," Danny said, almost nervously. After hearing that Ricky had been injured, Martin had spun out completely; only Danny's firm hold on his shoulders kept him from lunging at Barker and hitting the man. Danny had dragged Martin to the opposite end of the room and let him have his tirade for a minute or two, before Martin broke away and stormed down the stairs. Barker had taken that oppurtunity to get to his feet to see where the agents were; Danny had grabbed him and shoved him back down in the chair and demanded the rest of the story. Barker – frightened almost out of his wits – had quickly spilt everything else he knew about the events of that day. Danny had then pulled the man down the stairs and shoved him in the car, before turning to Martin, who was sitting hunched on the pavement, head buried in his hands.

Now Danny found himself watching as his friend's defences fell.

He didn't cry. He _couldn't_ cry. He had to hold on to that one last thin thread of dignity … but it was hard. _Ricky's not dead_, he told himself firmly. _He can't be. Remember that. He's not dead. _Dimly he was aware of Danny kneeling beside him and putting an arm around his shoulders, asking him – something. He couldn't understand the words. They weren't important; just a meaningless babble.

"Martin!" Danny shook him, hard. "Martin!"

He was rewarded with a stare of surprise from his co-worker.

"Good to have you back. You OK?" Danny asked.

Martin forced a smile. "Yeah."

"You wanna talk?"

"No." He accepted a hand from Danny to pull him to his feet.

Danny patted him on the back. "Let me know when you're ready."

"What did Barker say happened after he treated Ricky?" Viv asked.

Danny shrugged. "Shaun took him downstairs, ordered him not to tell anyone, put the fear of God into him, and sent him off."

"How badly was Ricky hurt?"

"Steven didn't reckon it was too serious … he said that it looked bad, but was only really a graze. Still, Ricky was unconscious, and head wounds can be very serious," he conceded.

"And Martin?" Sam asked softly.

Danny grimaced. "He didn't take it well at all … he almost went into shock. He's OK now, but – well, for his sake, I just hope we find Ricky alive," he concluded grimly. "I don't know what he'll do if we don't."

"Are you OK?" Jack asked, watching the young man in front of him.

Martin nodded. "Yeah."

"Danny said you weren't."

Martin shrugged. "I was just shocked." He smiled. "No big deal."

Jack raised one eyebrow incredulously. "The way Danny described it, it sounded like a big deal," he suggested.

"That's how he saw it," Martin retorted. "I was just a bit shocked." He looked Jack straight in the eye, knowing exactly what he would be thinking. "I can still work on the case, Jack."

Jack shook his head. "I don't know, Martin. I don't –" He broke off as Vivian knocked on the door, then entered quickly.

"An anonymous phone call has placed Ricky and Alan at a house in Brooklyn," she told him.

Jack nodded, and got to his feet. "Let's go. Martin – you stay in the office."

Martin nodded. He had known this would happen. Again he cursed himself for loosing control when they brought in Barker. Still, he considered, it _had_ been a shock.

He nodded absently as Jack warned him again that he was on strictly office duty, then watched out of the corner of his eye as he sat at his desk, as Jack, Sam, Viv, and Danny left without him. With a sigh, he began work on the stack of paperwork he had neglected for the past day.

The ringing of a phone thirty minutes later interrupted him. _That damn cell phone_, he thought searching through his desk for it as the ring tone grew louder and louder. At last he found it, sitting under a stack of old reports. The caller-ID told him that the call was coming from a private number; with a little trepidation he answered: "Fitzgerald speaking."

"Hey there Martin."

He dropped the phone. He couldn't help it. In a second he grabbed it back up and hissed: "Ricky?"

Ricky laughed. "That's right."

Martin closed his eyes briefly. "Where are you?"

"Nice try."

"Thanks. So, why are you calling me?" Martin wished desperately that at least one other person was in the office with him; then at least they could attempt some sort of trace …

"I want to see you."

"When?"

"Now."

Martin nodded, scribbling a note on a piece of paper on his desk. "Where do you want me to go?"

"Down the road from you there's a Starbucks. Meet me there in ten minutes."

"But –"

"Do it. I'm warning you; I can disappear extremely quickly if I need to. I have to see you and tell you something though. It's really important." Martin could hear the thinly disguised desperation in Ricky's voice.

"I'll be there," he said, listening as Ricky hung up. Martin finished scribbling the note, then walked into Jack's office and left it on his desk.

He walked towards the lift, dialling Jack's number as he did so. However, he was not surprised that Jack did not answer. He surmised that the team were in the middle of raiding the house and that Jack had turned his phone onto silent.

He reached the Starbucks a few minutes later, and sat at a table to wait. He was a few minutes early, but did not believe that it would cause much of a problem. He waited, pretending to read the newspaper, until he heard a voice behind him.

"Hi Martin."

He spun around and got to his feet as he saw Ricky. An impromptu smile broke out on his face as he shook hands with his ex-best friend. "Good to see you."

Ricky nodded. "Likewise. Let's go."

"Hang on a second," Martin said, stalling desperately. "Where?"

Ricky sighed. "There's no time, Martin. We have to go now. I'll explain on the way … I have to tell you what happened in case something happens to me, OK? Please, Martin, just come with me _now_."

Martin frowned, considering his options, then nodded. _Jack is going to kill me … _

He followed Ricky out of the Starbucks.

Jack ran a hand through his hair as his other three agents congregated on him. The house had been empty, although there were signs that Alan at least had been there; his fingerprints were all over the kitchen according to a preliminary forensics report. There was no sign of Ricky. He ran his eyes over the rest of his team, but their defeated faces tolf him all he wanted to know: their quarry was long gone.

He checked his phone quickly, and noticed that he had one missed call : Martin. He frowned as he tried the office phone but there was no reply. He ended the call and then tried Martin's cell phone; after a few rings Martin answered. "Hi Jack."

"Martin."

"I found some new information," Martin told Jack, ever conscious of Ricky at his side. "It's from a car dealer – I left it on your desk."

"OK – you aren't in the office?" Jack asked, knowing the answer but needing a reason.

"No. I ducked out for a coffee down the road."

"Starbucks?" Jack asked, his voice betraying a misture of amused and incredulous.

Martin replied sheepishly, "Yeah."

"We'll be back at the office later this afternoon."

"OK …" Martin didn't sound too happy about this, and Jack wondered why.

"Is what you found important?"

"Could be extremely important."

Jack sighed. _Just tell me, for God's sake, Martin. _"So you think I should go back now and see it?"

"Yes," Martin replied. He wished that he could just tell Jack: 'I'm in a car with Ricky and we're headed north; I'll call you when I know where we're headed'; but he knew that that was not possible, not with Ricky sitting right next to him listening to every word he said.

Jack sighed. "OK, Martin." He hung up. "Back to the office, everyone," he said loudly, to get his team's attention. "Martin thinks he's found something."

"Better be good," Danny grumbled.

Jack nodded fervently. _Yes, Martin, this had better be very good … _

Chapter 7 will be up soon! Please review :-)


	7. CHAPTER 7

Author's Note: Thankyou for the responses to Chapter 6. Hope this next installment satisfies … I'm sorry for the length of time between updates … RL!

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Chapter 7

"Agent Malone!"

Jack heard the yell, and turned to face the police officer, who was hurrying towards him.

"That's me."

"A body's been found," the officer revealed.

Jack frowned. Danny walked forwards quickly. "Let's go," he said.

"Where was it found?" Viv asked as they followed the officer.

"In a dumpster on the other side of the warehouse," the officer told them. "It's the body of a man – in his twenties."

Sam shot a quick look of alarm at Jack. _What if … _

"One of the officers found it by accident," they were told as they walked up to the dumpster. "Looks like they've been stabbed."

Jack nodded briefly, murmuring "Thankyou", then moved over to look at the body. He pulled back the cover of the plastic sheeting covering the corpse.

"Who is it?" Danny called as he approached.

"Alan Mortis," Jack told him grimly.

---------------------------------------------

"Where are we going, Ricky?" Martin asked wearily. They had made six stops during the trip, but Ricky had told him not to get out of the car, wanting to be ready in case they had to leave quickly.

"Just making sure there's no one following us."

Martin let out an incredulous sigh. "I think we would have lost them by now!"

"You never know who's watching, Martin," Ricky told him.

"Conspiracy theorist," Martin said, only half-joking. He yawned and leaned back against the seat. "Where are we going?"

"I want to show you something … tell you some stuff …" His voice trailed away. "Let's keep moving."

Martin slipped his hand into his pocket as he shifted in his seat slightly. He fumbled for his phone and unlocked the keypad, before speed dialling Jack's cell phone. He then slipped his hand out of his pocket as Ricky started the car engine.

--------------------------

Jack glanced quickly down at his phone. _Martin calling_, the display screen told him. Frowning, he answered: "Jack."

There was no reply from the other end of the line. Jack frowned. Sam glanced over from the driver's seat, and asked, "What is it?"

Jack moved the phone away from his mouth. "He's not …" He stopped, listening intently, then he grinned. "He's got the phone in his pocket," he hissed, covering the mouthpiece. "He's in the car with Ricky."

Sam parked the car. "We're here," she said, reaching for the phone. Jack relinquished it, and Sam quickly turned the microphone volume onto mute, then gave it back to Jack. Jack nodded his thanks as they entered the FBI building, Jack listening intently to what he could hear of the conversation.

"Any clues?" Martin was asking.

There was silence.

"Come on," Martin said, laughing a little, "you've got to give me at least a hint about where we're going!"

There was silence again, though Jack thought that Ricky may have been laughing.

Martin sighed. "OK, well, let's listen to the radio for a bit. OK?"

Ricky replied, "Yeah sure." A few seconds later, Jack heard music playing in the background.

"Hey, what's a local station?" Martin asked a few seconds later. "I'm tired of all the inner-city stuff."

"OK," Ricky replied, and a few seconds later, the station changed. "This is a good station."

Jack listened, frowning slightly. _What's Martin playing at … _A few seconds later, the song ended and the DJ annouced the name of the station: "And this is Hanson Springs local radio, live on the air …"

_Oh,_ Jack thought. _That's what he's playing at … _He grinned. "They're somewhere in the vicinity of Hanson Springs," he told Sam. "Run it – see if Ricky has any links to the area."

Sam nodded, and moved away towards Danny and Viv, who were already waiting. Jack saw the expressions on their faces change dramatically as Sam told them exactly what Jack was listening to. Danny looked over, a shocked grin on his face.

Jack walked into his office and carefully shut the door, blocking out any incidental noise from the corridor, then he took his office phone off the hook, and sat down at the desk, still listening. It was a shame that the techs were unable to start traces on calls that were already started, he mused, picking up the note that Martin had left on his desk. He read it quickly, then tossed it back down. It told him nothing that he did not now already know. Martin and Ricky were now listening to the radio in silence.

Sam entered the office, holding a piece of paper in her hand. "Ricky's mother was buried at the cemetary in Hanson Springs," she told Jack quickly.

Jack got to his feet. "Let's go." He froze, listening intently to the phone. Martin had cried out once in alarm … what was happening?

"What's wrong?" Sam asked.

Jack shook his head, listening intently. Suddenly he heard Ricky swear loudly, before a loud crash … The line went dead.

Jack moved the phone away from his ear, and looked Sam dead in the eye. "Something's gone wrong," he told her. "Either they've crashed, or …"

"Or?"

"Shaun Mortis is still out there somewhere … what if he found them? Maybe Ricky killed Alan, and Shaun's looking for revenge?" It was certainly plausible …

"I'll call uniform, and get them to notify us if there are any reports of a crash,"Sam said, moving away.

Jack nodded. "Then, get Danny and Viv. We're going to search up that way ourselves."

Sam frowned. "But … we don't know where they are," she protested.

"Martin's missing, Sam," Jack told her shortly, "and we never abandon our own. They were probably on a major highway, and we know the direction in which they headed. Get Danny to run that. We leave in five minutes."

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TBC …

Author's Note: I promise not to take two months to update this time! Please review :)


	8. CHAPTER 8

Author's Note: Thanks for the responses to Chapter 7 :) Hope this update satisfies …

I have nothing but apoligies to offer for my long absense – I've had a number of distressing personal situations come to the fore, and I also had a rough time at school. In short, I'm very very sorry for the delay, and I hope that this update makes up for at least part of it.

Thanks again to everyone who reviewed.

Chapter 8

Martin groaned and put a hand to his head. With a start, he jerked his hand away, as he felt something – sticky on his forehead. He looked down at his hand and was mildly surprised to see a red stain across it.

_Blood. Ah hell. _

He remembered now; remembered the sudden jolt as their car was knocked to one side of the roadway. He had a vague memory of someone shouting in alarm – was it him? – and of Ricky struggling desperately to maintain control of the car, before – darkness.

He struggled to look around him. The car was lying in a ditch, by the looks of his surrounds. He wondered momentarily that – apparently – no other cars had stopped to help them, before he remembered that the road they had been driving on had been practically devoid of all cars.

Looking over towards the drivers seat, a sudden anomaly struck him. It was empty. _But … _he thought, forcing his dizzy head to consider possibilities, _Ricky? Where is he? _He peered outside the car as best he could from his twisted position, but could see no sign of his friend.

Martin sighed, and decided to leave that puzzle for another moment. For the time being, as his head cleared, he began to look to getting himself clear of the car, as another alarming thought struck him. He had no idea how long he had been unconscious, but from the look of the front of the car, it was possible – if not probable – that the engine had been severely damaged in the crash, and if that was so, the car catching alight was a very real – and very horrifying – possibility.

He looked around himself, trying to gauge the extent of the damage. Suddenly his eye fell on a – shape lying out on the ground. His blood ran cold. _Ricky._

Ricky lay still on the ground about two metres away from the car, in the shadow of the embankment.

Martin turned his attention to extricating himself from the car, looking down towards his legs and feet. He was able to freely move his right foot and leg, however, his left leg felt trapped. He reached down experimentally and felt a piece of metal resting across his leg about halfway down his shin. He tried to wedge his fingers underneath it, but with no success.

He could smell petrol even stronger on the air, and this lent him a desperate strength as he clawed at the metal holding him prisoner in the car. After a few agonising seconds, he managed to get two fingers on his right hand underneath the bar, and he began attempting to push upwards, wedging another finger and then his thumb under there in his struggle.

He pushed the metal up by another fraction of an inch, suppressing a groan of pain. He pulled backwards gently with his leg, and felt – to his delight – it coming loose. He pulled backwards quicker, angling his foot, and quickly setting himself free. He released the metal bar, and it fell to the floor of the car. Hastily, Martin felt his leg for breaks or cuts; it appeared, from what he could tell, however, that he had been lucky – the bone felt sound, and other than mild pain from bruising, he was not in any great distress.

He crawled out of the car and towards Ricky, who had still not moved. As he reached his friend, he felt at Ricky's neck. To his relief, he felt a pulse; probably a little too fait for comfort, but a pulse nonetheless.

Exhausted by his efforts, Martin shook his head, trying to stop the blackness from encompassing him. He tried to think of what he should do; tried to reach for the phone he thought he had in his pocket … but unconsciousness overtook his senses and he slumped to the ground, dead to the world.

To be continued …

Pathetically short, I know, but I should have another chapter up in a week or two.


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